


The Good In Us

by AwkwardSquiid



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arcann Needs A Hug, Arcann is a dork fight me on this, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Make that an actual tag guys, Minor Original Character(s), Mutual Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 05:56:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14805639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwkwardSquiid/pseuds/AwkwardSquiid
Summary: The Alliance Commander, Barsen'thor Vaeryea Tarask, is on the hunt for her declared "dead" brother after discovering he vanished during her years frozen in carbonite. However, leaving the Alliance without their Commander for a while is no easy feat, and Vaeryea looks to a new ally to help her in the search, while her friends hold down the fort.Meanwhile, Arcann is dedicated to proving his loyalty to the Commander. When she comes to him for help, Arcann takes it as his personal mission to prove how far he's willing to go for her; and it's farther than he ever thought possible.





	The Good In Us

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so HEY, it's Squiid, and I'm here solely for a personal experiment. (I mean, if you enjoy reading it too, that's great.) I wanna see if having to post consistently for a multi-chapter story and not just shorts (COUGH everything else I've ever done, ever), will give me a bit more motivation, so here I am.  
> Naturally, I chose SWTOR for my "experiment". And that beautiful FREAKIN' romance that we got for Arcann. Guys. Seriously. It's so great. (I don't care if he stabs you he's beautiful, okay?)  
> I'm not promising quality here, just a little something. Hopefully should be about four chapters. Maybe more if a miracle happens and I get the motivation. You get the idea.

“Commander, you’ve been up all  _ night _ reading those datapads.”

The gentle yet firm voice of Lana Beniko, former Minister of Sith Intelligence, drew the Mirialan out of her sleep-deprived haze. Vaeryea’s tired gray-blue eyes jumped up to the blonde’s golden ones, giving her friend a grim smile. “As if you haven’t stayed up into the early hours of the morning doing research,” she retorted, lightly.

Lana scoffed, crossing her arms over her dark robes as the dappled light of Odessen from the War Room’s roof dotted her pale skin with spots of light. “You are impossible, you know,” the Sith said, frowning at her. “Worse than Theron.”

Vaeryea leaned back on her chair, giving Lana a bemused look from over her datapad, her green Mirialan skin standing out against the starkness of the white seat that the Commander was so fond of, placed in the middle of the data libraries. “I’m not really sure if that's high praise, or an insult.”

“No comment.” Lana rolled her eyes mock-dramatically and flicked a finger, sliding a seat over next to Vaeryea’s high-backed office chair to join her, crossing a leg over the other and craning her neck to get a look at Vaeryea’s datapad. “Last known location of...Vae, who is this?”

The Mirialan twitched. The Jedi was never one for secrets, and both of them knew that- things were never kept from Lana or Theron, and rarely from anyone else. (Not to mention she was a stars-awful liar.) “His name is Linvaoh,” she said, finally. “Former commander of Havoc Squad.”

“Ah, I think I’ve heard about him.” Lana pulled her head away to set her gaze on eye-level with the Commander. “He was quite famous among the Republic, if I recall correctly.” She paused for a moment. “Isn’t he dead?”

Vaeryae’s grip tightened on the pad, ever so slightly, which no normal person could have noticed; but it didn’t escape Lana’s watchful eye. The Sith bit her lip, wondering why the question merited such a reaction from her friend, but soon got her answer.

“Lin...Commander Linvaoh was-  _ is- _ my brother.”

“Commander, I am so sorry.”

Vaeryea smiled sadly at Lana; which, if it meant anything, she’d been doing far more recently. Perhaps it was the fact Valkorion was no longer renting space in her mind, or that the burdens of the galaxy no longer rested fully upon her shoulders. She had often refused to let the Alliance bear that weight, and Lana knew that better than anyone. “I do appreciate the sentiment,” she said, her voice somewhat light, despite the topic. “But you may notice I don’t mourn him yet.”

Lana’s brow furrowed as she looked back at the datapad. An image flashed across the screen; a green-skinned Mirialan, perhaps a shade darker than Vaeryea, with striking tattoos across the bridge of his nose and one on his forehead. He looked young, cheerful, with dark brown hair and a sparkle in his eyes, one that dared to remind her of Theron.

“You don’t believe he’s really dead?” Lana asked, nearly rhetorically.

“Naturally, yes.” Vaeryea tapped at the screen and pulled up a strand of data- as the numbers and letters flew by, Lana made out something that said  _ ‘status: deceased’ _ . However, Vaeryea’s index finger simply flicked the strand away, refocusing on the image of his face. “Aric and I have been...conversating.”

“The Cathar from Zakuul, you mean?”

“Correct.” Vaeryea was looking intensely at the picture of her brother, but seemed just as focused on the conversation at hand. “Jorgan was under the command of Lin, before being promoted after his…’death’.” The Commander closed out the image. “Aric doesn’t believe he’s dead. He says Lin went missing in wild space, along with their Lieutenant, Elara Dorne.”

“And what is Jorgan doing about it?”

Vaeryea sighed and closed out the datapad entirely, setting it on her lap. “What  _ can _ he do? He doesn’t have time, or resources, and we have no leads. The last anyone heard from Lin was just before he and Lieutenant Dorne vanished; a single transmission, locked deep within Republic Holosecurity vaults.”

The Commander rose to her feet, and Lana followed. She opened a shelf, sliding the pad into the luminescent yellow slot, as it slid into place with a soft  _ click _ . Vaeryea looked away for a moment. “We don’t have many leads. And Odessen needs me. But if Lin really is lost…” She looked up at Lana, and even for a Jedi, the amount of emotion compiled in Vaeryea’s eyes impressed her. “I have to find him. I know he’s alive, I can feel it.”

“I understand,” Lana said, without hesitation. “Trust me, Commander, I do.” She steepled her fingers, looking down at her hands for a moment. “And we  _ will _ find your brother. But if you’re leaving, Theron and I will have to hold down Odessen. You’ll need to bring someone else along.”

“It won’t be long, anyway,” Vaeryea said, and Lana heard a spark of the Commander’s lightheartedness return. “Just a run to Coruscant, and then into Wild Space.” She got a wicked smile on her face, lips curling up. “Besides, I have just the person in mind to accompany me.”

Lana recognized that look. “Commander, you do worry me sometimes.”

  
  


The forests of Odessen truly never ceased to amaze him.

It was nothing like Zakuul; it was rich, lush, full of life and light. The forests and swamps of Zakuul had been deep and ancient, as if they brooded over you and knew your every move, and every dirty deed you had done and whispered  _ brother-killer  _ from their gnarled branches.

Odessen was different to Arcann.

Perhaps it was the comforting hustle-and-bustle of the Alliance base several kilometers away, still in hearing range, or perhaps it was the dappled sunlight falling through the pine boughs and warming skin that once had only felt the cold chill of metal and rain. Whatever the case, Odessen had started to feel like home.

After Operation Dragon’s Maw, when he had officially joined the Alliance, Arcann’s life had gotten complicated. His mother in a coma, and the Outlander occupied with a thousand other things, Arcann had sought refuge in the forests. There, no one had to look at him strangely, and crowds didn’t have to diverge a path for him to walk through.

He’d spent more hours than he cared to count in the forests of Odessen.

But today, he’d gone back. Perhaps to get away, or perhaps because Senya had made him- she’d practically shoved him out of the War Room, a smile on her face and a laugh bubbling in her throat. He’d truly never seen her  _ that  _ happy; in fact, his childhood memories of Senya were all hurt and grief.

So now, he simply sat among the forests, breathing in solemn silence.

Breathing was something he’d taken for granted, he found. Without the mask, it was truly something unique; every breath he took tasted slightly different, mixed with the pine around him and the grass and dirt under his hands and feet, listening to the Force swirl around him, making music in the branches. Perhaps this was what Vaeryea and the other Jedi in the Alliance meant when they “meditated”- simply breathing in everything.

It was when he’d been meditating that she’d come.

Arcann sensed her miles away, perhaps literally. He’d become accustomed to her aura, the feel of it; to sense someone through the Force was a trivial task, but to sense individuals was a skill he was slowly developing. She was always so calm, so collected; all he sensed from her was love, compassion, and peace. She was warm, so different from his father’s or Vaylin’s chilly presence. In fact, she truly felt similar to Thexan; warm, welcoming, trusting.

He picked up the sounds of her boots crunching against the grass, and he opened his eyes, the world flooding into view. The clearing he was in was one familiar to him; it was where he’d spent a few hours planning the piece of armor he wanted to give her someday. Soon, it’d be finished, very soon; he’d keep working on it until it was perfect.

“Arcann?” came the voice of Vaeryea. “Am I interrupting?”

The former Emperor slowly rose to his feet, feeling his joints crack, unaccustomed to moving after a while. “Of course not, Commander,” he said, turning to face her. Instinctively he wanted to shy away, seeing the form of the Mirialan standing before him; her white robes, calm smile, ebony tresses of hair braided elegantly...he barely found it proper to even look at her. “I will always have time for you.”

Vaeryea let out a soft laugh that made his heart jump. “I’m honored you enjoy my presence so much, Arcann.”

He gave her a sad smile- ah, smiling. It rather made his face hurt, using muscles to convey emotion that he hadn’t felt in so long. Before joining the Alliance, he could scarcely remember the last time he’d smiled...perhaps before killing Thexan? He wasn’t sure. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t, Commander.”

It rather occurred to him what he had said after the fact, and much too late. Vaeryea giggled, which was altogether a bit of an unusual sound to hear from her, as the Commander was typically very composed and elegant when interacting with him. Perhaps it came from her natural professionalism, or the fact he was a past enemy...he wasn’t entirely sure.

“You flatter me.” Vaeryea glanced around the clearing, her sharp eyes scanning the area in silence for a few moments, but her stillness didn’t last long, as it usually did. The Commander was never one for long silences. “Do you come here often?”

Arcane averted his eyes. “Occasionally,” he said, his voice softening a bit. Before his mother had reawakened from her coma, Arcann had been in the forests  _ frequently _ , not just on rare seldom chance. The hard, cold stares of the Alliance members would drive him out of the Alliance base, the sins of his past nipping at his heels like an angry akk pup.

He knew they didn’t intend to be so harsh- that it was just as uncomfortable for them as it was for him. 

Yet it still stung.

“But,” Arcann continued, determined to change the topic, “I’m sure you didn’t come all the way out here for idle chatter. I am at your service should you need me, Commander.” Perhaps that was a bit too formal- what had the little blue Twi’lek told him several days ago? “Loosen up”? Arcann attempted to relax his shoulders, but his stiff muscles refused to budge more than a few inches.

The Mirialan Jedi paused thoughtfully for a moment, gazing off into the trees, before returning her gaze to him. “As a matter of fact, I could use your help with something.” She took a step forward, having to tilt her head to look up at him. She was certainly smaller up-close; she’d always appeared tall and elegant on holotransmissions.

Arcann immediately snapped to attention, diverting his attention from her (slightly distracting) height instantly. “Of course. Your wish is my command.”

_ Well,  _ that _ wasn’t loose, was it? _

A smile tugged at Vaeryea’s lips- perhaps she’d appreciated the embellishment? Nonetheless, she continued. “My brother, Linvaoh, has gone missing.” She took a breath as Arcann listened, intently. “I have a lead, but I’m going to need support. Lana and Theron are in charge of Odessen in my absence, and everyone else is so busy…” She blinked at him with those stormy gray-blue eyes, one he’d seen so many times, and he watched as they shimmered with hope. “Would you accompany me?”

Arcann hesitated only for a second, even then just to catch his breath. “I’d be honored.”

_ Honor. _

It played such a pivotal role in their partnership.

Perhaps now, with this opportunity, he could finally prove to her just how much he meant it.


End file.
